


Finally Silent

by sevsgirl72



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-29
Updated: 2013-06-20
Packaged: 2017-12-13 09:13:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/822587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevsgirl72/pseuds/sevsgirl72
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal slowly becomes Will's ship in the night - his only hope for silence. <br/>SPOILER ALERT: For all of Season one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Recognition of Silence

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Hannibal, or anything related to the TV show or characters. Just having some fun with them.
> 
> A/N: So this will eventually be a case fic as well as slash - however, I wanted this opening to test out the characters, see if I can figure them out a bit. Any comments or critique is welcome.
> 
> A/N2 - unbeta'd all mistakes are my own.

Will Graham did not observe Doctor Hannibal Lecter.

Will did not observe Doctor Lecter, but not for the same reasons that he avoided observing other people.

In other people, Will saw the worst of them. No matter how hard he would try not to see it, and no matter how hard people tried to hide the monsters they were, Will was forced to see what lay under the masks. It was there, in his head, all the time.

No, Will did not observe Doctor Lecter, but he did watch him.

Will watched every move the doctor made: the way he crossed his legs as he sat down to their sessions, folded his coat over one arm as they entered the building, even the way he was so precise with his knife and fork at the dinner table, always the fork on the outside and knife on the inside. Every movement one of careful consideration and intent.

Will watched all of these things, but the observations never came. At first Will thought it was because he had too much respect for the man, as a professional, as a colleague and as a friend.

But the more he watched the more Will realized that it was not because he refused not to; it was because Hannibal was unobservable.

That one piece of evidence that Will would usually pick up on, a glance, a movement a decision, and follow to an end result, a feeling or motive, did not exist in any of Doctor Lecter’s life. Every action, every word was contained in an of itself. There was nothing for Will to figure out.

For once, it was not only his house at night, his ship in the night, that made him feel safe. Doctor Hannibal Lecter’s blankness provided him with a sounding board that did not hold any of the judgement that everyone else did.

Hannibal Lecter was silent.

“Will?”

...

“Will?”

Will blinked at Doctor Lecter before looking around the room. They were in Doctor Lecter’s room, Will and Hannibal, and Will was on the couch. Doctor Lecter, legs crossed in that particular posed way, sitting across from Will.

“Sorry, I was somewhere -”

“Else? No, you were not Will. You’ve been here, your vision was somewhere else.”

“Actually, it wasn’t.” Will declared with a furrowed brow when he realized the truth of it. For a moment, everything in his head had slowed down and stopped.

“No?”

“No.” Will got up and started pacing the room, weaving in and out of the furniture. This wasn’t worrying him, it was wonderful, but he couldn’t figure out what that meant.

“Tell me.” Lecter’s voice seemed very close, but the man had not moved from his chair. It was as if he was everywhere in this room, in his life now.

“I think I better go.” Will marched purposely to the door and was in the waiting room before he hesitated. It was hard to leave a comfort, even when it was one of negative, a lack of understanding or knowing Lecter. When he turned back Lecter was at the door.

“I am here, any time, Will.”

“Say that to all your patients?”

Lecter gave one controlled shake of his head, “Only friends.” and shut the door.

Will could have gained more insight from the door then from Lecter.

It separated him from the silence.

By the time Will was in his car, Crawford was calling and his mind was a chaos of noise once more.

 

tbc 


	2. Silence Interrupted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we get a murder to solve, we start to see Hannibal's puppet mastery and Crawford is a jerk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers! Up to and including Episode 10
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Hannibal, or anything related to the TV show or characters. Just having some fun with them.
> 
> A/N - unbeta'd all mistakes are my own.

“He’s collecting.” Will whispered.

He was alone.

Crawford, and his team were all waiting in the hall. They gave the scene to Will before the ME had even arrived to assess the body. This was the third one in as many states, and in as many weeks, but this was his first glance at a scene. The other two had been similar Crawford had assured him. Ages ranging from 13-15.

This one had been in some adolescent rebellion stage. So angry with the world, yet: _I care about this boy. I must keep him, safe, keep him happy_.

Will sees himself lay out the body on the bed and tuck him into it. It is an expensive hotel, high cotton count. The boys piercings had been removed and the body had been cleaned, dressed and properly arranged in a suit. Will feels the drive behind the act, but it is not a smooth ride; there is a speed bump in the connection. He can’t find what is not there so his mind cannot make the leap.

“ _I loved these boys_. But it takes a lot to kill a teenager. _I am not weak_. But he is not in it just for the kill. _I make the choice not to kill them violently_.”

Will closed his eyes and he begins to pick up the threads.

“ _I lured them in_ , with money, food or drugs. _I’m handsome, charismatic. I am their better and they know it. I get them to open up, to talk. But I leave the room_.” Will cocks his head and tenses. “ _I leave for a while_. The boy flicks on the TV. He begins to feel safe. Trust is established. _I know they will not fear me until they need to_.” Will feels that a window had been open, the one in the bathroom. “ _I come back in through the window, not the same way I left_. There is no struggle because...”

“Chloroform.” Crawford says interrupting Will.

Will’s eyes jolt open at the intrusion and feels like snarling in his frustration. “There is no artistry here. He is compelled to do this because he believes that it is the only way to save these boys. He’s been in the same position. He was a runaway too. Either found God or some highly moral hierarchical power that he feels subservient to.” As Will talks he sees that Crawford knew all of this already. “Why did you call me?” He asks softly.

“It’s been a few weeks, thought you might like to keep your feet wet and in the game.”

Anger. It is there in a moment and consumes itself just as fast, but not before it lashes out at Crawford.

“This is not a game Jack.” Will says shakily and storms out.

***

Will is in his car again. Still at the crime scene. The volume in his head at max. The need to keep those boys safe is still coursing through his head, but there is something else now too: arousal. Not his own, the killers.

He loved those boys, or at least this one.

Smashing the steering wheel, Will runs out of the car and takes the stairs back up to the room.

Crawford is raging at the team. Will doesn’t care.”This one had a sexual element to it, but I can’t see it.”

“None of the other did.”

“Then it could be a different killer - which it isn’t - or this one is special, he may have just had more time.”

The ME finally arrived on scene and the forensics could finally start their job. And he peeled back the covers of the bed the boy was so nicely tucked into.

The scene changed before Will’s eyes. No pants, penis had been eviscerated and obvious signs of sexual trauma.

“You won’t find anything on, or in the body. He is much too careful.” Will says to the room.

“So he is just a run of the mill sexual sadist.” Crawford states.

“No, no no.” Will is shaking his head resolutely, as if Crawford had just insulted him. “No. He is not doing it for the act, he is doing this for them, for their salvation. You won’t catch him by looking for acts of sexual assaults matching the MO or anything close to that.”

“So what are we looking for?”

“Look for pillars of a community, pastors, priests, outreach centres, guidance counsellors maybe. He probably has a family, but was also probably abused as a child, though no one knows.”

***

Doctor Lecter was awaiting his last patient of the day. A trivial woman, a smoker with one too many cats. Rudely, always late. If it were not for the smell of cat and smoke that permeated up from her very skin, he would have killed her last year. Instead, he bears through it until he needs an outlet for frustration; it was a building pressure and her time was certainly running out.

Her luck was high on this day though. Hannibal did not mind the extra time to puzzle over Will Graham.

Hannibal did not have friends. He had people he withstood because they served a purpose, cat lady case and point, and people he found interesting. Until of course they became a bore. Alana Bloom was quickly becoming one of these. Hannibal had enjoyed bashing her head against the wall at the Hobbs house. Like Alana everyone that came into contact with him, and everyone that knew those people, and so on exponentially, were at his mercy. It was a simple equation. But Will, he was the _x_ variable, he something unknown, outside his realm of control in a way because he was his only true source of equality.

Hannibal knew that if someone were to catch him it would be Will Graham. It was something Hannibal recognized during their first conversation in Crawford’s office. Something else entirely happened after their last conversation however, Hannibal suddenly got the feeling that he would not be able to kill him until it became absolute necessity.

That necessity included only one scenario that he could foresee - the moment Will figures him out.

The man’s brain was far too fascinating to destroy it for any other reason. But now that his brain was currently destroying itself, Hannibal’s problem seemed to be a non-problem except that he was getting used to the man. During one of their earlier conversations Hannibal remembered asking Will if it was harder to imagine the thrill a killer gets when killing now that he had done it himself. Will said yes. But Hannibal knew he was lying. It was too easy for him to imagine it and everything else until it became reality - the notion was absurd and Hannibal knew that Will knew it. While it was basic denial, it was also fascinating.

Will knew who he was, he saw the art and Hannibal was beginning to feel, no, appreciate him because of it.

Practically however, Hannibal knew he was allowing himself too close to the centre of things at the FBI.  While it provided him some protection it would not be hard for him to remove from his place here in Baltimore, but he would rather not - it would be a bother.

The door opened and he was heralded by the stench of cat with a flurry of apologies flooding from the intruders mouth breaking him from his reverie.

“Sit down, Ester.” He greeted with a concealed sneer, but sat half listening through the rest of the appointment. His thoughts still on the threat, and intrigue that was Will Graham.

***

Will was at home. It was night, he went straight home after the crime scene. Sat with the dogs, tinkering with a motor and went to bed.

Will was in bed.

Then he wasn’t.

The stag’s hooves beat a steady tattoo on the road, matching his heart beat at times, and others a counter rhythm.

Will was walking.

Hobbs appeared in front of him. A smirk that spoke of knowledge on his face. The stag stopped, Will gasped for breath.

“You saw.” Hobbs chanted.

The stag charged and impaled Hobbs as Hobbs had impaled his victims.

Will’s body jolted into awareness in the middle of the road again.

When he turned around to find out where he was, his house was still visible. It did not feel as safe as it usually did.

Will shivered.

***

Will stood in the middle of Doctor Lecter’s waiting room. He was there before Hannibal’s first patient and was too tense to sit down even though his feet were still sore from the nightly excursion. Frustration, anger, fear - it was swirling in his head. The door opened before him, but the customary offer to enter did not come immediately. Will waited, but did not look up from the spot on the floor he had been staring at while he had been waited.

Doctor Lecter did not like those small, banal, assumptions of an open door meaning a granting of welcome. These were the rules that Will somehow knew inherently, but the man was not well. These small things were rendered moot by that formality.

“Come in, Will.”

“Crawford wants to be my ‘bedrock’.”

“And you don’t trust him.”

“Of course not! He dragged me back, at the expense of .... of this” Will gestured wildly to his head.

Hannibal had sat on his desk while Will paced. Hannibal watched him closely. It was never just in a straight back and forth motion, it was a pacing of circles and zigzags: much like Will’s clock, it was a movement of no spacial recognition. Was this Will or was it the illness? Questions Hannibal could only answer if Will was treated.

Will finally slowed, stopped and collapsed on the couch gracelessly by the window.

“And so you call on me.”

Will huffed a small laugh. “I guess I don’t need his bedrock, I need yours. Bedrock isn’t the right fit for you though, marble maybe. Do you mind that?” Will looked up at Hannibal with a genuine uncertainty.

“I can appreciate the far more subtle strength and artistry of marble.” Hannibal was truly amused. “I am your friend Will. As you have no doubt observed, I do not give that title out lightly or often. You may come to me anytime, night or day, I will make time for you.”

Will nodded surely.

“Crawford keeps interrupting my process.”

“That is very rude of him.”

“But I get the feeling he just thinks interrupting will keep me from getting too deep.”

“Does it keep you from losing time?”

“I’m not sure. I must still be able to function when it happens. Or else Crawford would have taken me out of the field.”

“Would he?”

Will stopped and stared at Hannibal. He felt as if bombs had been dropping all around him and now, the silence was back - completely.

Hannibal observed him closely and knew what was coming next awaiting with a perverse glee that didn’t show on his face.

Will’s eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped forward onto the floor and began convulsing.

 

tbc


	3. Silence Takes Hold

“It is not polite to keep your friends waiting, Will.”

The stag that had been perched over him in a white haze blurrily shifted into Hannibal. That unobservable face came into sharp focus next to Will’s bedside. Will’s head felt stuffed with cotton, but it no longer hurt. His memory was nothing but blurs, buzzing and sparks. Immediately he began to try and sit up, but the hand resting on his shoulder held firm and kept him down. Will finally relaxed his attempt and turned his head to look at Hannibal.

“What happened?” Will managed to croak out.

“It seems our Dr. Sutcliffe lied to us.” Hannibal explained as he sat back in his chair. Even through the haze of his mind Will recognized the use of plurals. “It appears you have a severe case of Encephalitis.”

Will’s brow furrowed in lack of understanding and Hannibal answered his question before he even had to ask it.

“It is a virus in the brain that causes severe swelling and fever. You have been given antibiotics for the past 4 days.” Hannibal was still not sure whether it was the best course of action, bringing Will to the hospital. Without the virus ravaging the man’s brain, Hannibal was risking losing his control of Will over to the man’s own reason. He could have killed Will, or just let him die. It would have saved him the hassle later, and would have meant that he would never be caught. As a bonus whatever familiar feelings Hannibal experienced for the man would have been dealt with, and he could have moved on. Instead, Hannibal had brought him into the hospital himself and let them do all the same tests Sutcliffe had. Hannibal had left Will that night, and returned with one less patient on his rotation and some cats with a meal that would last them a while. Hannibal had even taken some to feed Will’s pack of dogs, a chore he’d taken to fulfilling in the interim. It would make Will indebted.

“What is the last thing you remember, Will?”

“Boy in the bed. The stag...you.” Will said cryptically. “In your office I mean.”

“The stag statue in my office?” Hannibal cocked his head slightly. That was the statue he had killed Tobias with. He found it strange that that was something Will might have drawn a connection too.

“Did they catch him?” Will asked as his brow began to pull down in pain. Hannibal saw this and pick Will’s hand up from the bedside. Will gasped wanted to ask what he was doing, but his hand suddenly exploded in pain. Hannibal pinched between his thumb and forefinger. It lasted for a good minute before the doctor relieved the pressure.

“Better?” Hannibal asked, still holding Will’s hand.

Will nodded meekly, his headache was dulled significantly, and the strong, firm hand holding his made him forget what question he’d been asking. Will gave the hand a light squeeze and was slightly surprised that the hand wasn’t immediately taken back. Instead, the gesture was returned.

“Good morning, Will.” A voice came from the doorway accompanied by a quick knock, “Hannibal.”

“Good morning, Alana.” Hannibal returned the greeting and stood up. Will’s hand dropped to the bed. “I must return to my practise. I’ll return this evening Will.” Hannibal gathered his coat, folding it carefully over his arm as Will had watched in fascination several times before. The doctor nodded to the both before leaving.

As Hannibal walked through the now familiar halls, he reasoned out this turn of events. This was a new, but not unexpected. Hannibal had planned for some element of transference to manifest. Especially at Will’s revelation of his lack of trust in Jack. Transference was something he dealt with, but this time Hannibal was quite sure he could use it. It was an excellent replacement, and in some ways more preferred, to Will’s illness. At least this way, it would be a more even fight.

It was more of a challenge.

***

Back in the room, Will was wishing Hannibal back and Alana away to whatever bright, sunny world she belonged to. It was not Will’s world, he had been kidding himself that it could have been. The worry and sympathy on her face was suddenly ugly to him. Will didn’t want that type of reassurance, the kind of mutual emotions that needed constant re-evaluation. Will wanted stability.

“How are you feeling Will?” Alana asked softly taking the seat that Hannibal had just vacated.

“Like I have encephalitis and’ve been unconscious for a few days.”

“Oh Will, I’m so sorry.” She picked up his hand, but Will wiggled it out of her grasp. Alana looked down at it sadly before returning his gaze. “I’m glad Hannibal was there for you when you started seizing. If you’d been alone at home...”

“Have you caught the guy?”

Alana told him everything that had happened since his admittance. There was another body, same mutilation and no escalation. Will asked her for the crime scene photos.

“You aren’t working this case anymore, Will. Do you hear me?”

“Why, has Jack taken me off it?” Will asked worried. He liked the classroom, but he felt like he’d done more in the past few months back in the field than he had ever before. Even more than he had in homicide.

“Of course not, but can you see that being back in the field has almost killed you?!” There were tears in her eyes. Will felt them, the reason for them, but it wasn’t his feelings just like they were not his tears. Will felt proud of himself, he could differentiate others from himself again.

“I am Will Graham.” Will mouthed to himself before talking again to Alana “My job didn’t almost kill me. This thing in my brain did. They have nothing to do with each other.”

“You need a break Will.”

“Doctor Lecter doesn’t think so.”

“He said that?”

“Please, the photos, you are not my doctor Alana, he is.”

She was angry. Will didn’t need any detecting to realize that. Alana dug through her bag and pulled out the right manila folder and flung them on the table over his bed.

“Here they are. Have fun.” Alana got up and at the door turned. “I’ll drop by tomorrow.”

“Thanks.” Will said, feeling a little cruel. Alana didn’t really deserve that, but she had to see he wasn’t broken. Not anymore thanks to Hannibal.

***

Outside the hospital, Alana flipped her phone open angrily and called Hannibal.

“Hello, Alana.”

“I just want you to know your patient is back to work.”

“That is good news.”

“How is this good news?! Will is sick Hannibal, he needs to rest, take time off.”

“Alana, I deferred to your expertise when it came to Abigail. It would be very rude of you to not respect me enough to do the same. Will is under my care, I understand his empathy, I understand his burden. I will help him through it. As for his work, now that his infection is being treated, it will keep him grounded.”

“At least make sure he stays in the hospital?”

“I will try. If not, I will look after him myself.”

“Sorry, Hannibal.”

“Goodbye, Alana.” Hannibal hung up. He picked up his scalpel and pencil from his desk and began sharpening it. Alana was slowly giving up on Will. She still cared, that was obvious, but she saw something today that made her back off. If she hadn’t, Hannibal had no doubt that she would still be in a room with Will.

Everything was exactly how it should be. It was nine am and Hannibal placed the pencil and scalpel in a careful row on his desk before going to greet his first patient, second if Will counted, for the day.

***

“How’s Will doing Doctor Bloom?” At Quantico, Alana had taken over all of Will’s classes for the time being. Jack caught her just before she went into the lecture hall.

“I gave him the new crime scene photos.” Alana said, “Against my professional judgement.”

“Good. Did he say anything about them?” Jack ignored her medical opinion.

Alana reassured him that Will would probably call, or break out of the hospital just to tell him if anything turned up.

“He needs time off, Jack.”

“We need him.”

“You and Hannibal are officially a conspiracy, Jack. He said nearly the same thing.”

“So, you’ve been out voted.”

“Will is a democracy now is he?

“Bloom, you are out of line.” Jack pointed a finger at her. “He is a man that can make his own choices.”

“I have a class. Bye Jack.” Alana stormed off.

***

Hannibal arrived back at the hospital just before midnight. Hannibal’s name was on Will’s chart, he could come and go as he pleased while Alana, or Jack (not that it would stop him) were subjected to the title of visitor.

Hannibal slipped into the room. Will’s light was on over his bed, bathing him in a warm glow. The man himself was asleep amongst a pile of crime scene photos, with one photo over his face. He must have fallen asleep looking at it. Hannibal stood by the bed and looked over the way Will had set them out to see if he could understand that order that Will had put them it. Hannibal could not discern anything of grave importance from them, or the one that he lightly took off of Will’s sleeping face.

Hannibal cleared them off the bed in the proper order and placed them on the table before sitting back in the chair he’d left several hours ago. He crossed his legs and propped open a book he’d brought with him on his knee and began to read. Not long after there was movement on the bed as Will shifted.

“I don’t need a guard.” Will said groggily, not even opening his eyes.

“Not even to guard against bad dreams?” Hannibal closed his book.

“Hmmm” Will hummed and and turned to Hannibal opening his eyes. “Is that why you are here? To be my guardian angel against all the horror?”

“Yes.” Hannibal glanced at the photos again “Did you see anything?”

“Same thing as before, love, care, arousal. There is still something else too, I thought it was just the sexual aspect, but...there is something else.”

“He was abused as a child”

Will nodded, “I told Jack that at the scene, but it would have never been reported. Definitely has a family as well.”

“You sound distanced from it, Will.”

“I know where I start and end again, and where they begin.”

“Does that make it harder?” Hannibal proded

“No,” Will frowned. “His actions seem much sharper to me, I don’t”

“Then why can’t you see the last part of this puzzle?”

“Because it isn’t there.” Will was resolute in this. It was a confidence that Hannibal had not seen before. “I don’t think we’ve seen a complete crime scene yet.” Hannibal nodded, and Will stared broodily up at the ceiling for a while. Hannibal turned back to his book.

Eventually, Hannibal felt Will turn his watchful eyes to him. Felt the gaze move up and down his body, spending time on his face and hands. Hannibal did not flinch, or show any signs of his recognition.

“You were here most of the time I was unconscious weren’t you?” Will looked at him hopefully. Hannibal saw his chance and was suddenly not regretting bringing Will to the hospital. While it had been interesting to watch what the virus had done, this was going to ensure his freedom, and the time to see how far into Will’s brain he could get.

“I was. Except when I had to leave to take care of a patient, and feed your dogs.”

“My dogs?!” Will bolted up, he hadn’t even thought about his dogs.

“I have been looking after them, Will. They are fine. Do not feel guilty for not remembering.”

Will’s eyes light up. “Thank you.”

The phone on Will’s bedside table began to ring. Will began to reach for it, but Hannibal stood up and pushed his hand out of the way to answer it for him.

“Doctor Lecter - Hannibal answered.

Will listened to the one-sided conversation, turned on his side, and watching Hannibal’s right hand that hung loosely by his side.

“ - Yes, Where.”

It was the one that he’d used to push Will’s out of the way. It was the hand that had helped feed his dogs. It also took away his headache.

“- He is.”

Will reached out and touched that hand. Felt its warmth. Warmth was surprising, Hannibal did not show emotion, and you suspect that he is cold. Instead there is a solid strength, and warmth.

“- I will tell him.”

Hannibal’s hand didn’t move at his touch, but it flexed when Will pulled his hand away again.

“- If he feels like it.” Hannibal hung up the phone. He did not mention Will touching his hand. “That was Jack. There has been another murder.”

“Does he want me there.”

“Yes. I will sign you out of here if you will go.”

Will started to get up. He wobbled on his feet for a moment, but Hannibal stayed him with a hand on his stomach.

“If I allow you to leave the hospital, it will be under my medical supervision. You cannot go home. You will stay with me for at least two more days.”

Will nodded, and Hannibal let him go.


	4. Silenced with a Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers! Up to and including Episode 12
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Hannibal, or anything related to the TV show or characters. Just having some fun with them.
> 
> A/N - unbeta'd all mistakes are my own.

“ _I loved you so much_.” Will was moving backwards and the scene unfolded exactly as it had the first time, until... “ _I bring you here, because I love you_. No, I loved you, _but you threw me away_.” He brought the boys here, and he loved them, but this one...This one he had had some sort of affair with. This was a boy that he was grooming for... “ _I could have made you like me. We could have been happy._ ”

Will has a knife in his hands. _I am furious with you. You disobeyed me_. The knife is brought down into the boy’s abdomen. Will starts sweating. His breaths are coming in short gasps. The knife is sliced downward. _If you are not mine, you will be no ones_. _No one will ever know you like I have_. Will looks beside him, and there laying in the corner is Garrett Jacob Hobbs, with all of Will’s bullet wounds, in the same position that he landed in when Will shot him. “ _See? See?_ ”

Will snapped out of his thought process. His mind was buzzing and he stumbled gasping for breath. The righteousness of the kill was coursing through his body. Hobbs was right, he felt powerful again, he saw. Will felt sick, and dizzy.

“I am Will Graham.” Will whispered under his breath, but it offered no comfort this time. It felt wrong. Jack came into the room and Will gave him the report, in jerking, broken speech. “He’s lonely. Wants someone like him. Wanted to make a version of himself,” Will’s hair was sticking to his forehead, he felt like he was burning up again, and Jack was looking at him warily. “something was wrong. Wants a soulmate. No he wants to create a soulmate.”

“Is that all?”

“Something else, I can’t...I can’t see it.” Will was pinching the bridge of his nose and the room began to spin. Jack being here felt wrong too. Will felt like he should be celebrating. “Can’t see it.” Will mumbled again and leaned against a wall for support.

Jack went out to the hall to call Hannibal in and the doctor immediately assessed the situation. Will, was still not well. Hannibal knew this when he took him out of the hospital. He was also at his most fragile now, in this moment. The killer and his own self were battling for supremacy. Hannibal had a hard time believing that Will could differentiate himself as well as he had said at the hospital. Hannibal had not missed Will’s reassurance to himself, whispering his own name, just before entering the crime scene. Perhaps there was a mental illness hiding beneath the virus after all.

Hannibal took Will’s head in his hands, lifting his chin up to get a look at his eyes. The fever was back, but Hannibal was positive it was exertion, not the virus.

“Katz has the files of all the potential suspects we’ve been running down in the truck. Go look through them.” Jack said, in the tone of voice that meant immediately.

“Jack, I am taking Will home.” Hannibal said. Jack motioned to reply, but Hannibal interrupted “We will take the dossiers with us.” Jack rethought it with a look at Will, and instead started ordering the forensic team around. Hannibal ushered Will out of the room.

***

In the car, Will quickly fell into a fitful sleep in the passenger side with the files open on his lap. He was mumbling things about boys and files. Things he no doubt had wanted to tell Jack. Hannibal hummed along with Delibes’s Lakmé. For a few harrowing moments, before Will’s seizure, Hannibal easily saw the events where Will figured him out. Hannibal reached over and placed a hand on Will’s shoulder, to steady him, and stop him from moving too much. Will seemed to calm down immediately. Hannibal smirked. Tonight, those events leading up to his possible capture were slipping further and further away.

This budding sexual attraction that Will seemed to be showing may in fact take any potential of being discovered out of the equation entirely. As he pulled into his driveway, Hannibal was reminded of  how his life was before Will, before Hobbs had to drag him into this. It was monotonous before this, and had been since med school. While his patients brought some level of satisfaction, most issues were tedious. With Will had come an entity that could at least see the art in his work, it changed his contentment from outside himself and into the recognition coming from an other. It staved off any boredom and now even offered him the perks of a potential sexual conquest with a more than willing, good looking partner.

Hannibal got out of the car silently and went to Will’s side, gently opening the door and shaking him awake.

“Will?”

The man slowly opened his  eyes. “I keep waking up to you.” Will’s voice was full of sleep, but was getting out of the car he realized what he said and blushed. “Sorry.”

“Do not apologize Will, it is a nice sentiment.”

“Is it?”

“I will not lie to you by saying anything different, even if the truth makes you uncomfortable.”

Will stayed silent as they walked up to the house. All the noise and confusion that had surrounded him at the crime scene vanished once again in Hannibal’s presence. But now, there was this other nagging issue to deal with. Hannibal hadn’t said anything about the touches, and now he is basically telling him he wouldn’t mind Will waking up to him. Will was sure he wouldn’t mind it either. He was started to depend on it being the difference between sanity and insanity.

Hannibal led him in the kitchen and sat Will down at the counter.

“I made some soup for you this morning.” Hannibal said shrugging off his jacket, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and tying his apron around his waist, before grabbing the soup out of the fridge and pouring it out into a pot to warm. “I was going to bring it to the hospital, but I think this is a much better alternative.”

Will thanked Hannibal, and watched as he prepared the food.

“It doesn’t make me uncomfortable, you know.” Will offered “I just figured it was crossing professional lines.”

Hannibal quickly glanced up at him as he was filling the bowls with soup. “It may be. But, so is being your friend and your doctor, as my psychiatrist persistently informs me.” Hannibal untied the apron, and brought both bowls around to the counter side and placed one in front of Will, and one in his own spot. “Does knowing that I may return the interest that you have shown, bother you?”

Will shrugged and tasted the soup, trying to give himself a moment to think about an answer. He never really thought of Hannibal as his doctor to begin with. Hannibal had rubber stamped him, and then they’ve been having conversations. Have they been appointments too, though?

“This is really delicious.” Will said before taking another mouthful.

“Thank you.” Hannibal replied.

“Why didn’t you before?” Will questioned vaguely, “return the interest, I mean.”

“I was not sure you were in your right mind. I am still not sure. That has less to do with how you are functioning in this moment, and knowing that you still have four more rounds of antibiotics before we can assess if the encephalitis is cured.”

“And if I pass all of your tests with flying colours?”

“Then we may revisit the conversation.”

As the two men finished eating, they discussed the case.

“This feels like the lost boys again. Instead of a mother, he is searching for a son. Except...”

“Except he is conflating son and sexual partner into one.” Hannibal finished his sentence and began to clean up the plates. As he was washing the pot, Will was reading through the files, but as he watched with hidden glances Will he saw as the man began to lose his battle with sleep.

Kitchen clean, Hannibal directed the man upstairs to the guest room across from the master suite. He had had it prepared for the last few days sure that something along these lines would occur.

“I have laid out something for you to sleep in, I apologize that it is mine.”

“s’okay” Will said as he trailed a finger down the silk sleep pants laying out for him on the bed. The whole room was an extravagance he was not used to, but it was nothing less than what he expected of Hannibal.

“I will give you a moment, and will return with your antibiotics.” Hannibal said disappearing down the hall.

Will shucked off his shirt and pants and slipping into the silk ones that Hannibal had left him. They were cool for a moment before warming up. It was refreshing, and safe. Will felt like he could sleep dream free here.

Hannibal returned with a full IV setup. Will settled into the bed, and with a quick efficiency that spoke to Hannibal’s medical training and attention to detail, the IV was inserted and taped without Will really feeling a thing.

“Why did you stop being a doctor?” Will asked with a yawn and murmured apologized.

“I have told you that already.”

“Wasn’t the whole truth.”

Hannibal remembered the human stench, and grime of emergency room medicine, and his lip curled up at the memory. He looked down at Will, but the man’s eyes were now closed.

“Good night, Will” Hannibal said, carefully brushing the hair off Will’s forehead

Will didn’t respond. He was already asleep.

 

***

_Will opened his eyes._

_It was the hotel room of the third victim._

_Something warm and strong touched his hand. It hurt to move his neck, but he did anyways._

_It was the stag._

_Nudging his hand again before moving its antler crowned head toward the bed, Will moved in disjointed steps in the direction the stag pointed._

_The boy was there, waiting for him._

_He was mouthing words, Will couldn’t hear._

_The boy beckoned Will forward with a hand, and the stag pushed Will from behind._

_Will fell on top of the boy and was encircled by his arms._

_Arousal bloomed in his body, heat, need. Will was sweating and the boy was caressing him, urging him on and the stag was standing there, watching..._

Will fell out of the dream with a yell, jolting up in bed, soaked in sweat and hard. The thought disgusted him. Will didn’t hear Hannibal come in, but suddenly he was there. Hannibal made a move toward him, but Will put up his hand.

“Don’t touch me.” He growled.

Hannibal could smell Will’s sickness, his sweat, his fear, and he was surprised to smell his arousal as well. He wondered whether it was actually Will’s or a residual of the killer in his mind.

“I must check if your fever has returned, and if the IV is still in place, Will.”

Will pulled the blankets around his groin trying to hide his erection. Taking a few deep breaths he dropped his hand. Hannibal came forward and put his hand to Will’s head. Will inadvertently leaned into it. Hannibal knew there would be no fever, but the man was soaked. Taking his hand away, Hannibal resisted the want to smell that mixture, taste it, savor it, and took Will’s hand checking the IV. The needle had held firm, and was still taped as Hannibal had left it.

“Do you often have physical reactions to your nightmare’s like this Will.”

Will shook his head resolutely.

“Was it you, or the killer?”

“Jeffrey Morrison.” Will said, and Hannibal asked him why, why that man, in that infuriating way he does making it sound like a statement instead of a question.

Will wiped sweat off his forehead with his arm.

“He wanted them to shut up.” Will growled out. “He couldn’t stand it. He wanted the boys to respect him, he wanted them to be grown-ups, but in the bodies of boys. He wanted to teach them discipline. He wanted them to shut up and follow his orders without complaint. Morrison was the only man that fits: divorced early this year, works at the community centre in the upper middle class area of town. He had three sons, but one of them four or five years older than the other two.” Will dug through the files he’d laid next to him before bed and handed it to Hannibal. “I....He’s found his soulmate. His son, his actual son. He’s groomed his son to enjoy...and enact these scenes with him.”

“Are you sure you want to tell Jack? It appears mostly supposition.” Hannibal questioned. “You are making leaps without bridging them.”

“That is what Jack likes.”

“But, has it not led to questions in the past - the copycat shrike killer for example?”

“Then, let’s go talk to him.” Will said haphazardly. “The address isn’t far from here. Jack would be at least an hour out.”

Hannibal considered this. Will was right, Quantico and Jack were in the opposite direction, and this killer seemed on edge already, ready to snap. Hannibal took up Will’s arm again and took out the IV.

“Get dressed.” Hannibal ordered “I’ll meet you in the car.”

 

***

“I called Jack.” Will said as they pulled up to the house. “He and the team are on their way.”

Hannibal and Will looked at the house.

“Someone is home.” Will said as a shadow passed by the window.

“Not just one.” Hannibal corrected and opened the car door.

“Wait.” Will whispered urgently, grabbing at Hannibal’s arm. This all seemed familiar, too familiar.

“He is not Hobbs.”

“You don’t know that.” Will was sweating again. “You can’t know that.”

“But you can and do, Will. You have been in his head. Do you see yourself doing something desperate? And remember, Hobbs was tipped off by the phone call.”

“I...” Will was going to say he didn’t know, but there was movement at the door of the house.  Jeffrey Morrison walked out with a young man.

“Where is he going Will.” Hannibal asked him.

Will shook his head.

“Where.” Hannibal insisted, making Will look at him, pulling Will toward him with a finger at his chin. “You know.”

Will still shook his head, but answered almost against his will looking Hannibal right in the eye. “He’s got another one.”

Hannibal started the car, and they followed Morrison.

 

***

 

Jack pulled up to a rundown hotel in West side Baltimore amidst two ambulances and several local squad cars. As he got out of his car, yet another squad car pulled up with sirens blaring.

“Shut those off!” Jack bellowed smashing the hood of the car with a fist. Angry didn’t even begin to explain what he was. Jack searched the ambulances and only found one suspect wounded, the other dead, and a teen, looking small and lost wrapped in an orange blanket. He hated to think it, seeing that at least the boy was alive, but Bloom had been right, Will should have stayed away. Jack didn’t even know what happened, but it was a mess. That was easy to see.

Hannibal walked out of the house supporting Will. There was blood trailing down Will’s face, but Hannibal seemed unruffled.

Jack walked to meet them, “Lecter, what kind of doctor are you?”

“I am sorry Jack.”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it here. Whether or not I trust Will to make decisions, you...”Jack pointed his finger at Hannibal. “I expected so much more.”

Jack turned his glare to Will, but questioned Hannibal. “Is he even conscious?”

“Conscious...dizzy.” Will answered for himself even though he could barely follow Jack’s words. There was so much static in the lights and sounds of the crime scene. He stumbled and Hannibal had to squeeze him tighter to keep him up right. “Don’t need to talk about me as if I’m not here.” Jack scowled at Will.

“Doctor Lecter, you are going to patch him up, and I want you both in my office tomorrow for a full briefing. Do I make myself clear?”

Jack didn’t wait for an answer before brushing past them both. Hannibal’s eyes narrowed as he watch Jack disappear into the crime scene. Jack had broken the very fine thread that Hannibal had let him walk on. As to what he would do with him was something to figure out at a later time. Straightening up as best he could with more of Will’s weight leaning on him, Hannibal got him to the car.

 

***

 

Hannibal pulled back into his driveway finally and got out to once again help Will out of the car.

“No hospital?” Will was surprised when he finally realized where they were. Hannibal got him out and made him lean on the car so that he could close the door.

“No, no hospital.” Hannibal reassured him. “I was sure it would be the last place you wanted to be.”

“Hannibal...” Will clutched at Hannibal’s coat lapel as if he were the only thing keeping him from drowning. Everything felt like it was moving, everything except Hannibal. There was so much noise when they had reached the motel, so much more when Jack showed up. Jack’s sharp voice was still echoing. He needed it to stop. “I...”

Hannibal leaned forward and kissed Will. Will’s grasp on Hannibal’s coat tightened into fits, pulling Hannibal as close as he could. The metalic taste of Will’s blood mixed on their lips.

The sounds in Will’s head ceased.

  
tbc


End file.
